


Fuck it.

by ImagineCharlotte



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkwardness, Bromance to Romance, Requited Love, Slice of Life, Valentine's Day Fluff, its valentine's day, thats all you need to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineCharlotte/pseuds/ImagineCharlotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean has been in love with Marco for four years, but he would never tell him that. Especially not on the worst day of the year.</p><p> </p><p>Jean is thirsty for the Marcool-aid</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck it.

 

6:29

A couple of doves sat in the tree just outside the window, cooing to each other with no regard for those who were still unconscious. The bedroom was dark from thick curtains pulled over the windows, but slivers of sunlight still snuck out the loose tops and bottoms. A soft snore was muffled under the slowly rising and falling heap of pillows and blankets on the bed.

6:30

WE ARE WILD, WE ARE LIKE YOUNG VOLCANOES

Music blared from the phone’s alarm and the heap exploded, one pillow hitting the wall opposite of the bed, another hitting the small fan on the desk and knocking it over. Eyes wide and hair twice as wild, Jean scrambled around in his bed to find the source. He needed to stop falling asleep playing on his phone. Lifting a pillow he hadn’t catapulted, his phone fell out of the silk case and onto the bed. Jean cackled with victory and turned the alarm off, taking a second or two to smile at the picture of him and a very intoxicated Marco at a music festival, before tossing the phone on the cluttered nightstand beside him.

He sat back in his bed, pulling the blankets over his shoulders and running his fingers through his hair as he tried to wake himself up. 6:30 was too early. He fell back and buried himself under as much fabric as a half conscious human could and drifted back into the in between state of sleep.

“Jean! It’s time to wake up!”

Jean jumped again, sucking in a deep breath and drawing out a long in the empty room. He reached over to the nightstand and picked up his phone again to check the time.

7:00am

He had class in forty-five minutes.

“Jean!”

“I’m coming, mom!” His voice was almost gone, but his mother must have gotten the hint, because she didn’t shout again. He took his time to get out of bed, threw on whatever was clean, and made the long trudge downstairs.

 

“Good morning, sunshine.” His mother sang, pouring ground coffee into the filter.

Jean mumbled in response and took a seat at the kitchen island.

“Are you spending time with Marco today?”

He shrugged, still struggling to keep his eyes open. It was kind of a given that he would. The only thing that could ever keep one from the other was Marco’s yearly trips to Belgium to visit family for the holidays. Those times sucked, and his mom would always compare him to a homesick puppy.

She laughed and poured each of them a mug of coffee, sliding one over to him. “Does Marco have a date this year?”

Jean gratefully took the coffee and took a long sip of the searing liquid and blinked a few times, his brows pulling together. A date? Why would Marco have a...

Suddenly very awake, Jean asked his mother with eyes wide with fear, “What day is it, ma?”

She blew on her coffee and tilted her head. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, fu-ah!” Jean jumped back, muttering a string of curses when half of his coffee spilled on his lap. “Damnit.” He groaned and looked up to see his mother slide a cloth across the island.

“Language, Jean. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He grimaced and took the towel.

His mother let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head as he cleaned himself up and he sat back down to drink the rest of his coffee. He may have third degree burns, but first, coffee.

“Maybe you should tell him. It’s the perfect day to do it.” She smiled and pressed her cheek to her shoulder.

“Mom!” Jean wailed and pressed his burning forehead to the cold granite.

“I’m just saying, Jean. You’ve been carrying this on your shoulders since freshman year. You’re a senior now, I can actually _see_ it bothering you. You can’t keep your head out of the clouds for five minutes these days.”

Jean’s shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breathe.

“Don’t be afraid to take risks.”

He lolled his head side to side on the hard surface. “It’s not that easy, ma.”

“Of course not. If it was easy you wouldn’t be such a miserable child.” She patted his head and walked off to the laundry room.

Jean lifted his head but didn’t say anything. As much as Jean wanted to retort, he had to admit to himself that swallowing back his feelings toward Marco for a considerate amount of time really was turning him into more of an ass. Still, there was no way he could tell him. He knew that loving your best friend more than best friends should love each other was off limits.

 

***

 

Jean pulled his car up to Marco’s house and beeped the horn. He rubbed his hands together and breathed into them. That’s what he got for being late and not letting his car warm up.

In addition to his little coffee incident, the strap on his book bag broke and spilled its contents out all over his bedroom floor, and he fell over while hopping on one foot and putting a shoe onto the other. He had to find a replacement bag, gather the thirty pounds of books, and accidentally burned his hand on a steaming tea kettle.

An over exaggerated Valentine’s Day discounts commercial made Jean grimace and he scrambled to connect his phone to the stereo. He flicked through the stations and ran out of skips, and not a single song played anything he was in the mood for. Awesome.

He turned his head in time to see Marco closing his front door. The freckled boy shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his fur hood jacket that Jean told him made him look like an Eskimo. Jean watched the ghosts of warm breath puff past his lips as they formed into a smile and raised his eyes to meet Marco’s, and he gave him a lazy smile.

“Good morning.” Marco shivered as he slid into the car and shut the door. His voice was still raspy from the early morning.

“Mhm.” Jean was not feeling the good part. He gestured to the cup holders occupied by two tumblers.

Marco gasped and picked up the one with the teabag, holding it to his cold cheek. “You remembered!”

Jean snorted and shook his head as he put the car in drive. After years of hearing ‘caramel vanilla chai tea with one sugar, one teaspoon of honey, and a dash of cream’ in a Starbucks with Marco, he had it down as well as the baristas, other than the burning himself part.

Marco took a sip and sighed with approval, letting his head fall back on the seat. “I wonder how they decorated the school this year.”

Jean scoffed and took a sip of his coffee before placing it in its holder to cool off. “ _Please_ , it gets worse each year. They probably set loose a million cupid copies to throw up all over the halls.”

“That’s so gross.” Marco said through his laughter.

“My point exactly.” Jean chuckled.

 

 

They pulled into the school’s parking lot and Jean felt his grip on the wheel tighten. He deemed whoever it was who decided that planting a heart shaped balloon on each parking spot the biggest piece of shit.

Marco sighed and held his tumbler to his lips. “Can I stay in the car?”

“Nope. If I have to go, I’m bringing you down with me.” Jean parked the car and stared out at the balloons. “On second thought, maybe I don’t have to go.”

Marco arched a brow and smirked as he opened the door, letting a rush of cold in. “ _You_ have a chemistry test today.”

Jean cursed under his breath. He forgot about that. He got out of the car and fell into step with Marco.

“I’ll quiz you during our study hall.”

He smirked and nudged Marco’s shoulder with his own. “I don’t know what the hell I’d do without you, Marco.”

“For starters, you’d fail chemistry.” Marco chuckled softly.

“This is true.”

Just as they suspected, the halls were massacred. Streamers were everywhere, heart shaped shiny shit hanging from the ceiling, and stickers that read ‘I Heart You’ and ‘Be Mine’, which came with complimentary heart shaped candy, were slapped onto every locker. It was horrible. It was way too much to take in. He couldn’t even see the school colors anymore. Were the lockers always red?

“I don’t understand what’s happening.” Jean whined, leaning on Marco’s shoulder for support. “I think I see the light…Oh wait, maybe it’s all the glitter.”

Marco laughed and opened his crazy red locker. “It’s actually not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Jean arched his brow high as he leaned back against his locker next to Marco’s and crossed his arms, watching the brunette sift through his book bag and the shelf in his locker.

“You’re kidding me, right?” He looked up and down the halls and gestured his hand for Marco too look again. “Are you still asleep?”

Marco shut his locker and smiled. “I mean, yeah it’s over the top, but you have to give whoever is so into it some credit.”

“Yeah, credit, sure.” Jean mumbled and followed him to their first class.

 

 

They slid into their seats and dropped their bags on the floor beside their desks.

“All I’m saying is, you,” Marco rolled his eyes when Jean’s eyes narrowed and put his hand over his chest, “ _we_ shouldn’t be so negative today.”

“Yeah, it’ll ruin your reputations.”

Jean and Marco turned to Eren as he took his seat next to his friend Armin. Eren turned sideways with his elbow balanced on the back of the chair.

“Well, not Jean’s.” His eyes met Jean’s and he smirked. “It’s no secret _you’re_ an asshole.” He cackled and dodged the pencil Jean threw at him. “I swear your temper gets shorter every year.”

Jean cackled and jumped on that opening. “Speaking of short, how’s your cougar boyfriend, Eren?”

Armin covered his mouth and lurched forward and over his desk, struggling to smother his snorts of laughter.

The grin was wiped clear off Eren’s reddening face. He held up his index finger and spoke slowly, “He is not a cougar, and you will stop calling him short.”

“I’ll stop calling it as I see it when _you_ start to.” Jean smirked and rested his chin in his hand.

“You’re an asshole.”

“We already established that, remember?” His grin grew wider the redder his friend’s face got and he turned his head to Marco. “You’re right. I don’t need to be a grouch. As long as Eren is around for me to take my hatred for the world out on, I’ll be just fine.”

“Can you not?” Eren scoffed and turned around.

Armin looked over his shoulder and gave Marco an apologetic yet amused smile. It wasn’t anything new for them to reel in their hostile other halves. Marco returned the gesture to Armin and gave Jean a ‘control yourself’ glare. The blonde pouted and sunk down into his seat.

 

***

 

For the rest of class, Jean was either daydreaming or copying the notes Marco took while he was out of it. All he could think about was what Marco’s reaction would be if he ever got the guts to tell him how he felt. Would he drift away or straight up ostracize him? They might remain friends, but Jean didn’t think he would be able to go back to the friendship they’ve had since middle school. There was a slim chance Marco could feel anything more than friendly in return. Jean was too nervous to let himself even _imagine_ what being in a relationship with Marco would be like, out of fear that he would get his hopes up high only to be rejected.

“ _Jean_.”

Jean jumped and blinked away the dryness in his eyes, and with sluggish eyes, he turned to see Marco packing his bag.

“Class is over.” The brunette’s voice went soft again, worried eyes on his friend.

Jean noted the quickly emptying classroom. “Oh…right.” He packed his things and they headed out of the room.

“Are you okay?” Marco walked alongside him down the hall.

“M’fine. Rough morning.”

“I kinda noticed.” Marco chuckled and both boys stopped at the corner of the hallway that would split them into different classes. “You’ve been spacing out a lot lately. Like, more than usual.” Marco’s eyebrows creased to match the concern in his voice.

Jean adjusted the strap over his shoulder and shook his head, avoiding eye contact by watching other students walk by.

“Other than the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day, is there something bothering you?”

His overwhelming bottled up feelings he’s been harboring for the past four years was a good start.

 _Don’t be afraid to take a risk_.

Jean suddenly thought of his mother’s words that morning. Take a risk…He could tell Marco right then and there, lay everything out on the table and wait for whatever Marco would do with it. He could grow some balls and wrap his arm around his waist and pull him in for a Grammy award winning kiss. Or he could stop letting his imagination get away with itself.

“See? You’re doing it again.”

His eyebrows rose when he realized Marco was talking to him. “Sorry, what?”

Marco scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re hopeless, Jean. What’s got your mind so wrapped up?”

After a few seconds of staring at Marco and gathering his words together, he took a deep breath. “Well… I-I don’t really know how to say this.” His chest felt so heavy. Oh god he was really doing this. “See, ever since-”

 

The bell rang.

Jean’s jaw hung with disbelief.

That was _horrible_ timing.

Marco was still looking at him, expecting him to finish whatever it was he had to say.

“That’s our Cu to get going.” He tapped Marco’s arm as he walked past him and to his next class. “See ya later.”

 

 

 

Jean wandered through the library until he found Marco sitting at their designated table in the corner of two tall bookshelves. He was relieved to see that it was left untouched by decorations. The brunette had his head down as he glanced back and forth between his book and notebook, one long leg stretched out under the table and the other slightly bent. Jean put his bag on the spare chair and noticed Marco didn’t smile like he usually would, instead he appeared to be somewhat nervous.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. You know how Professor Pixis loves to hear himself talk.” He took a seat in the chair beside Marco.

Marco hummed and tapped the end of his pen to his lips. “Are we good?”

Jean studied his friend’s face to understand why he would think otherwise. “We’re always good, Marco. Why do you ask?”

The brunette huffed, “It’s just that you seem so out of it.”

“Yeah, I know. Probably one of those days I can’t wake up.” He faked a yawn to back up his white lie.

He reached into his bag and pulled out his books and notebook, and when he looked up, Marco’s uncertain eyes were still trained on him. He did this thing Jean became so familiar with when his friend wanted to say something, where his left eye slightly squinted and he tipped his head to the side and his lips were slightly parted.

He must have thought better of it, because he tapped his pencil on his book. “Do you still want help studying?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Jean’s voice trailed off.

Marco took Jean’s chemistry book and wrote down some questions from each chapter before sliding the paper to Jean.

“Answer all those, and then I can see where you need to work on the most.”

“Yes, sir.”

Marco went back to doing his homework while Jean started on his mini test.

Jean was three questions in when his mind shifted back and forth between formulas and spacing out. He considered on and off if he should spill the beans to his friend. If he didn’t, they could still do homework together and banter over who controls the radio, or hang out at diners at three in the morning because the party may have ended two hours ago but they didn’t want to go home just yet, or they could stay in and watch a marathon of comedies and laugh themselves tired.

If he did, he could lose it all.

Or not.

Jean shook his head of the anxious inner turmoil and finished the questions before sliding them back to Marco. The brunette looked it over, then lowered the paper and looked at Jean.

“Not bad.”

“Yeah?”

Marco bit his lip with an apologetic smile. “More like terrible. Jean, what’s going on with you? You’ve always sucked at chemistry, but _wow_.”

Jean leaned forward, resting his weight on his elbow and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. I mean, I do know but I don’t know how to go about it, you know?”

Marco slumped back in his chair and studied the blonde. “Is that not what I’m here for?”

Jean bit his lips and lowered his eyes. “Usually, yeah…”

Marco chuckled and crossed his arms over his books, sliding forward until he was spread flat on the table. He nudged Jean’s arm. “Only usually?”

Jean shrugged and kept his gaze on the table.

“Does anyone else know what it is?”

He shook his head.

“Does mom know?”

Jean scoffed and pursed his lips in a way that defined his cheekbones. “She doesn’t count.”

“I’m gonna ask her.” Marco smiled, eyes widening with mischief. “I’m gonna do it.”

Jean snorted and put his palm to Marco’s goofy smiling face and nudged him back. “You do that, and I’ll never make your tea ever again.”

Marco gasped loudly against the palm of Jean’s hand. “You wouldn’t.”

“An extra cup holder sounds pretty good now that I think about it.”

“That’s just cruel.”

“No questions and you keep the tea.”

Marco pouted and sat back to be released his face from his friend’s hand. “Fine, but don’t think I forgot about helping you study.”

Jean scoffed and sank down onto the table. “Yes, sir.”

 

***

 

 

It was cloudy out, making the temperature feel ten degrees lower than it should have been. They sat in Jean’s car, shivering while they waited for the heat to kick in.

“We made it out alive.” Marco said through chattering teeth as he pulled his seatbelt over his chest.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Out of the corners of his avoiding eyes, Jean could see Marco analyzing him. He kept his eyes focus on the stupid balloon still anchored in the parking spot. The cold air should deflate that baby in no time, and come Monday, everything else would be stripped from the halls and he could breathe again. His gaze continued to falter as Marco kept his eyes on him.

“Please don’t do that. You know it creeps me out.”

A muffled growl vibrated in Marco’s throat. “Well _you_ won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

The heat finally powered through the vents, and they were off to Jean’s house.

 

 

Jean refused to look at the brunette staring at him for the first half of drive back until Marco reached down and turned the volume dial so fast it could have twisted off. He crossed his arms and leaned as much of his back as he could on against the car door, still silently staring at the blonde. Jean was growing more and more nervous. Marco might try to pry more, to the point where Jean could either burst or shrink in on himself. A soft voice from the brunette made his brow crease.

“But February made me shiver…”

Jean glanced at Marco. The brunette’s grin only grew wider when Jean shot him a warning glare.

“With every paper I’d deliver…”

“ _Don’t_.”

He hated the song. He really did, but he had this problem where he hated it so much that he knew every word therefor couldn’t help but sing it, and Marco knew that, and he would use it whenever Jean gave him the cold shoulder or tried to shut him out in some way.

Marco sat forward and took a dramatic pause.  “I started singing…”

“Marco, I swear to god.”

“Bye-bye, Mrs. American Pie…”

“God damnit.”

“Jean.”

“No.”

“Jean.”

…

“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry…”

“Them good ol’ boys were drinkin’ whiskey an-Damnit Marco, stop!”

Marco brought his hand to his mouth to hide his big, amused smile.

“Singing ‘this will be the day that I die’.”

 

Jean pulled into his driveway and turned to Marco, the brunette smiling innocently. He had managed to get Jean to sing the entire eight minute song with him, and when it was over, Jean looked about ready to slam his head on the steering wheel.

“Are you proud of yourself?”

“Of course I am.”

“Of course you are.”

It wasn’t a far walk from the car to the door, but the freezing weather made it feel like a journey across the tundra. The house was oddly quiet. Usually Jean’s mom was home around the time he was out of school. He walked into the kitchen and found a note on the counter.

“Where’s mom?”

Jean turned from the counter to see Marco leaning against his fridge with a stick of string cheese in his hands.

“Stop raiding my fridge.”

“I got you one, too.” Marco slid and unopened one over to him.

“Oh, never mind then.” Jean tossed it back and forth between his hands. “Both our parents went out to an _extravagant_ dinner party in New York.”

“They took a three hour drive for food?” Marco pulled off a piece and nibbled on it. “They’re so strange.”

“ _So_ strange.” Jean laughed.

What Jean found even stranger was the fact that his mother said it was the perfect day to tell Marco, and somehow both sets of parents magically disappeared. She thought she was being so slick.

“So we get the house to ourselves.”

Jean shrugged and started going through the cabinets. “Movies or games?”

There was a pause before Marco answered. “I was thinking a fort.”

Jean’s hand stopped on the lid of a peanut butter jar and he looked over his shoulder. “We haven’t made one of those in years.”

“I know!” Marco smiled, but his eyes looked wide and edgy. “I mean, at least we would be switching things up, yeah?”

Jean considered it for a moment and turned back to stuffing his arms with snack options. Forts took a while, given how random and uneven they always were. “Yeah, sounds good. We should start soon. You know how we love how early the sun goes down.” He dumped all of the options on the counter and looked at Marco. “We have more in the fridge and freezer.”

“I’m on it.”

 

***

 

Four hours. That’s how long it took them to create a fort that wouldn’t fall on them, knock anything over, have enough room for both of them plus the snacks, and, of course, give them full view of the television. Once the fort was complete, they took shelter in their masterpiece and started on their appetizers consisting of pizza rolls and Oreos. The television was turned on to reruns of a daytime drama, white noise to the two boys chatting under the fort.

“I’m pretty sure I failed that chemistry test.” Jean twisted an Oreo apart and kept the plain cookie side, trading it for the plain side of Marco’s.

“Don’t say that.” The brunette put the sides together to make a single thick cookie and took a bite. “I helped you study.”

“You’re right.” Jean lay back on a few pillows they’d stuffed inside for aesthetic. “I probably got an A.”

“That’s pushing it.”

Jan hummed in agreement and the two went silent. Every few seconds some dramatic score from the TV show would creep around the room. He raised his head from the pillows to see Marco. He was sitting with his legs criss -crossed, body turned slightly toward the TV. Jean let his eyes travel over his friend’s face, taking in the lines of his cheekbones, how long his eyelashes looked when he blinked, that cluster of freckles right under his right ear. His gaze continued down to Marco’s neck and shoulders. He’d wonder so many times what it would be like to kiss him on his collar bones or up his neck and along his jaw.

He _wanted_ Marco so much that it was getting too painful to bear. Jean studied him for a few more minutes and sat up with a long breath.

If he told Marco, right then and there, in their little fort on his bedroom floor, surrounded by junk food, what would happen? Would he lose it all? A pain in his stomach tightened. He had so many things to be afraid of, but there was always that ‘what if’.

Jean took another shaky breath and reached out his hand. His stomach grew tighter when he wrapped his fingers around Marco’s arm. The brunette turned back to Jean and looked at him with questioning eyes.

Kneeling in front of him, Jean took another breath and took Marco’s other wrist in his hand. “I’m scared to tell you.” he quietly admitted.

Marco looked up at Jean and gave him a small but encouraging smile. “Tell me what?”

“The thing that’s been bothering me.” He felt like he was going to die with how hard his heart was pounding.

Marco slid his wrists out of Jean’s grip far enough that he could hold his hands, giving them a swing. “You don’t have to be afraid, Jean. It’s me.”

“I know.”

_What if?_

What if, what if, what if…

Fuck it.

“What if I was to tell you…what if I was to tell you that I love you, b-but in a different way?” His throat closed up. Just like that, four years of heartache and fear, all put into a question, of all things.

Marco blinked his doe eyes up at Jean, his lips parted and adding to his surprised expression. Jean breathed nervously and did what he wanted to do for years. He moved his hands from Marco’s and slid them along his jaw, lowering himself to press his lips to Marco’s. It was a timid kiss, unsure and self-conscious of what he should be doing. He slowly pulled away, surprised that Marco hadn’t punched him or pushed him away already. Instead, the brunette’s eyes were still widened, only now a smile made its way to his lips.

“What’s so funny?” Jean immediately backed away and he could feel the heat rising from his chest to his face. To add to his confusion, Marco wrapped his arms around his waist and brought him back and close enough that he could nuzzle his nose into Jean’s shirt.

“What are you doing…?” Jean asked softly, overjoyed and terrified about whatever the hell was happening.

“They were right.” Marco was laughing. It started out shaky, but grew into a genuinely happy laugh.

“Who was right? Right about what?”

Marco cupped Jean’s face in his hands, and the blonde let him guide him into another kiss. Was he confused? Hell yes, but he wasn’t about to pass up any opportunities to kiss Marco Bodt. He made a displeased whine when Marco pulled away.

“Our parents.” He rubbed the back of his neck and wore a sheepish grin.

What. Jean’s eyebrows creased. “What are you talking about?”

Marco hesitated before taking a deep breath “Well what had happened was, one day I asked my mom if she could help me find one of my books, but my room was so messy and my mom just happened to pick out the one book that was my journal. We all know how our parents are super nosy. Anyway, so she found out and told your mom who told your dad who told my dad, and my mom told me they were going to scheme a way to get us together but I didn’t think they would really do it until a few seconds ago.”

Jean stared at him, trying to take in all the information and keep it in order. “Wait, so you’re telling me you keep a diary?”

“It’s a _journal_!”

“My mother knew about you this whole time, and said nothing to me.” Jean ran his fingers through his hair. “And now their setting us up has happened in a bedroom fort. They are _so fucking weird_.”

“So weird.” Marco laughed, catching Jean off guard and kissing him again.

The blonde gasped into the kiss but quickly melted into it, following Marco’s rhythm, and he sighed with content when his tongue ran along his lower lip. He parted his lips and let Marco guide him into a deeper kiss. Bringing his hands up, Jean raked his fingers through soft dark hair, his other hand running up and down Marco’s side.

He had to be dreaming. Out of all of the reactions he expected Marco to have, _that_ was not one of them. It was just another day dream. It had to be. He laced his fingers in Marco’s hair and gave a slight tug. Marco moaned into his mouth, and Jean pulled away. Marco was panting a little, his face red and eyes glossy and disappointed, but he needed one more thing.

“Say something so I know this is real.” Jean whispered, one hand still in Marco’s hair and the other on his waist.

Marco held his face in his hands again and smiled. “I love you.”

Wait a second. Marco loved him. His best friend, who he loved so much more than a best friend, loved him back in a more than best friend way. He was ecstatic, overwhelmed, and a little irked by his mother’s secrecy.

Marco ran his thumb along the blonde’s cheekbone. “Jean, did you hear me? I said I love you.”

Jean smiled and planted kisses from Marco’s neck, along his shoulder and back to his collar bone. “I heard you.” Jean buried his face in his neck, nuzzling his nose against the cluster of freckles, and tried to absorb as much of the moment as possible, in case he would wake up any minute. “Jus’ wanted to hear it again...” He held himself to Marco and relished in everything about him, from his scent to how much warmer he was with his arms around him. “I’ve loved you since freshman year you jerk.”

Marco chuckled and brought his arms around Jean’s waist, bringing him close enough that Jean was essentially sitting in his lap, face still hidden in Marco’s neck. Jean’s body suddenly jerked, and he took a quick breath through his nose. He tried to burrow further into Marco, but was pried off.

“Jean?”

Jean opened his eyes to see a blurry Marco and his worried look, then pressed his sleeve covered palms to his eyes and took a shaky breath only for an embarrassing sob to come out. Still pressed to his tearing eyes, Jean shook his head rapidly.

“Stop, I’m okay.” He made a pathetic whine, “I’m just having an inappropriate reaction to a very happy moment.”

Marco laughed softly and pulled Jean’s hands away. “I think it’s sweet.”

Jean made another tiny noise before wrapping his arms around Marco’s neck and retreat to his hiding place in the nook of his shoulder, making the brunette laugh again and squeezed him in return. He was able to reign himself in, placing quick kisses to where his tears fell.

He breathed a laugh and shook his head. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Me neither.” Marco chuckled and leaned back to look at Jean. “But I like it.”

Jean hummed and turned his head enough to catch Marco’s lips in another kiss.

A few kisses turned into a few more, and soon they were making out on the floor in their tiny fort, whispering sweet nothings to one another and laughing against each other. It was so new to both of them, but it was easy. They knew everything about each other, and sure they had a few things to learn about each other, but they were more than happy to.

 

***

 

“I don’t want you to go home yet.” Jean whispered, lazily running his thumb along Marco’s jaw.

“I don’t have to go.” Marco sighed and blinked slowly.

They’d moved from the floor to Jean’s bed, their legs tangled together and around the endless blankets and pillows. It was almost one in the morning. Their parents weren’t home yet, but according to Marco that was normal when his parents went to the city.

Marco tilted his head and pressed his lips to the palm of Jean’s hand. “I can stay.”

“Yeah, you should.”

Jean shuffled closer and kissed Marco for the thousandth time that night, then nuzzled his nose against the other boy’s. Marco closed his eyes and scrunched his nose, giggling at the tickling sensation. Jean laughed and kissed his crinkled nose, then moved up a little to rest his chin on Marco’s head, sighing deeply and wrapping his arms around the brunette to bring him close. He felt the vibration when Marco hummed and nestled himself against his chest, and let his heavy eyes close. The television still played quietly from the other side of the room, lighting up the room with flashes of colors every time the camera angle changed. Jean’s breathing slowed down as he began to fade into sleep.

“Jean…”

His eyes stayed shut, but the whisper brought him halfway back to consciousness. “Mmm?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Jean tilted his head down and pressed his lips into Marco’s tousled hair. “Happy Valentine’s Day."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3am a few nights ago and remembered, 'holy shit valentines day is around the corner for real', so this was born.


End file.
